Down the Line

We take our health for granted
(Hypochondriacs aside)
Until good fortune and
The unavoidable collide.

For something’s bound to happen;
If it misses us in youth,
Then age will slow us down
So we can’t fight it – that’s the truth.

And when infirmity descends,
It hates to let us go.
It’s possible to conquer it,
But progress might be slow.

We can’t appreciate our health
When we are feeling fine,
Yet no one likes to contemplate
What’s waiting down the line.